


Touched

by Ginger Jam (skylite), skylite



Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-09
Updated: 2014-01-09
Packaged: 2018-01-08 01:45:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1126926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skylite/pseuds/Ginger%20Jam, https://archiveofourown.org/users/skylite/pseuds/skylite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecilia Reyes finds herself having to deal with long-denied feelings she wasn't quite ready for when she loses someone she hadn't admitted to herself she loved. Written for Prairiedog's 'Not enough time to say I love you' challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touched

**Author's Note:**

> Touched is rated PG13 for mild violence.
> 
> The recognizable characters appearing in this story are © 1997, 1998, 1999 2000 Marvel Comics, all rights reserved. They are used without permission, for entertainment purposes only. No profit is being made by Indigo for writing, or archiving this story. No infringement upon nor challenge to the rights of the copyright holders is intended; nor should any be inferred. This story may not be reproduced without permission.

She stood in the rain, but nothing touched her.

The water on her face was salt -- tears of regret and grief.

Her brown eyes looked not at the sodden lawn sprawling before her, but instead, they have focused on the past -- a past filled with all too many angry words, a handful of silly, playful moments, and far too few significant glances.

~I never apologized for when we met, she thought, wiping her glasses ust to have something to do with her hands. ~For what I called him. For how I treated him. For my fears.~

~For my hate. Of myself. And for everything I couldn't control.~

She sank to her knees, trying to block out the news report. Trish Tilby's plastic smile and practiced, earnest expression had been how she'd found out.

It hadn't been Magneto.

It hadn't been Apocalypse.

It hadn't been Bastion.

It had been a bullet. One damned perfectly mundane bullet. Fired from a little Saturday Night Special. Held in the shaking hands of a frightened, tripping crackhead teenager robbing a bodega for money to feed his sick addiction.

Jean had known the moment it had happened. She had been sitting by the fire, sipping her tea. And she had gasped.; She hadn't said a word -- not aloud -- she'd just transformed her clothes into the Phoenix uniform and risen like an angel through the ceiling. A moment later she was joined by Storm and Cannonball.

[~Cecilia, prep the operating room. We've had a casualty.~]

Cecilia had obeyed. You don't argue with a telepath.

While scrubbing and prepping, she'd turned on the television to see if the news had anything. The X-Men made the news as a matter of course.

Trish Tilby had been on the air already when the report hit her desk. She'd been the consummate professional, although Cecilia's trained eye could see the shock behind the anchorwoman's facade. ~No,~ she had thought, ~not him.~

"...Dr. Henry P. McCoy, Avenger, scientist, Nobel Laureate, is dead," Trish intoned with her carefully modulated voice. "Dr. McCoy was purchasing flowers at a small mom-and-pop grocery store in the upper Bronx, when an attempt was made to rob it by an unidentified man."

The report had gone on to describe the crackhead. Tilby had waxed rhapsodic as the news would permit on Hank's heroism -- how it had been that sterling quality that had saved the elderly couple who owned the store -- at the cost of his own life.

By the time Phoenix, Storm and Cannonball returned home, Hank was dead. He looked so handsome in his charcoal grey suit with the gold shirt and red tie. Except for the blood marring the perfect picture, Hank looked as though he'd merely fallen asleep.

"I'm sorry. I tried to keep him alive," Jean murmured. "But it was too late when we arrived, even though I heard his telepathic call." She hung her head, red hair falling to shadow her features.

"I should have been with him," Cecilia stammered, forcing the words out around a sob. "I should have been the one to stand beside him. I--" and then the words stopped. Cecilia shook her head, braids flying, before bolting from the house where she'd met him -- the house full of memories.

Which was how she came to be standing out in the rain, even now -- with her mutant power keeping the rain off her, like it could have kept the bullet from piercing Hank's heart.

"Cecilia?" the soft voice was Bobby Drake's. It too was filled with a grief so big that tears seemed woefully inadequate.

Cecelia turned, and wordlessly embraced Hank's dearest friend in the world.

"We found something in Hank's pocket," he said after a moment, blue eyes still dewy with tears."Something I know he would have wanted you to have." He held out his right hand, palm down, and lifted Cecilia's hand with his left. He kissed her on the cheek, then said, "I'm sorry," before withdrawing and leaving her alone.

Cecilia squeezed her eyes shut the moment she felt the softness of the item Bobby had placed in her hand. ~No. No, Dios, please. It was several long moments before she could force herself to look down, and to open the tiny black velvet box Bobby had given her.

Inside was a diamond engagement ring.

The rain touched her as she consciously lowered her personal forcefield. She had this one thing as a tangible reminder of Hank's love -- this one thing could touch her now that he was gone and could do so no longer. And that touched her heart, easing the pain just a little.

"I love you too," Cecilia said, and slipped the ring on the ring finger of her right hand -- the widow's finger.


End file.
